


The Prince's Wish

by charonismyfriend



Category: EXO (Band), NCT (Band), SHINee, SuperM (Korea Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Bodyguard kind of, Fantasy setting, Friends to Lovers, Light Angst, M/M, Mutual Pining, Royalty, they all may be stupid tbh
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-03-19
Updated: 2021-03-21
Packaged: 2021-03-28 17:20:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 20,203
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/30142941
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/charonismyfriend/pseuds/charonismyfriend
Summary: Due to the unforeseen circumstances the seven princes are forced under the protection of their close friends. And while Yuta's choice of not leaving Taeyong's side is explainable, the fact that Chittaphon chose him as his guard leaves Youngho surprised, and maybe a little warm inside.(Fantasy AU where the members of SuperM are princes in the city N., an analogue of any fantasy setting, except it's sort of based on South Korean culture)
Relationships: Chittaphon Leechaiyapornkul | Ten/Suh Youngho | Johnny, Lee Taeyong/Nakamoto Yuta
Comments: 6
Kudos: 16





	1. So it begins

**Author's Note:**

> A slightly different work for me since I don't usually write things in the 'past' setting (even though it's a fantasy one so I did bend a few rules) but I like how it turned out. Please leave the comments as you go along or at the end!
> 
> The biggest canon divergence about their relationship is probably that all Shinee members are brothers. The rest of the guys are not related.

The capital city N. feels alive and radiant, buzzing with excitement; people on the street gleefully cheer and yell, the flags are holstered high and swinged in hands, banners spread wide across the streets. Children are running around, dragging coloured ribbons behind them. Probably they wouldn't understand the meaning of the event but their parents, and anyone of age, know. 

Today is the big day. 

The carriage gently stops on the brick-paved pathway to the palace entrance. As the door is opened by the attendant from the outside, the roar of the crowd gets louder. Youngho watches as Jaehyun steps out of the carriage first, offering a hand to Minhyung, who opts for jumping down himself. 

"Come on," Minhyung smiles towards the people remaining in the carriage and heads for the main doors.

Youngho lets Doyoung, Jungwoo and Donghyuck go before him and then crawls out of the small stuffy space himself. Letting his eyes adjust to the bright daylight for a couple of seconds, he promptly follows his friends inside. It is hard not to have a small bounce to his step, excitement overflowing, considering that they are going through something never done before.

Servants of the palace lead them to the main hall – a huge light-grey stone-walled room with gilt pillars supporting the ceiling, marble floors and tables between said pillars, forming three sides of the square. The fourth side is lined with seven thrones, now empty, but the mere idea that soon all of them will be occupied fills Youngho with giddy excitement. A small smile makes its way through his mask of neutrality but he quickly hides his face behind the fringe.

_Not yet._

As he sits at the assigned table of his clan "C" – on the right side from the thrones – he absentmindedly scans the room in search of familiar faces whom he sees plenty. To his left he observes Lee Taeyong chatting with another prince of their clan, Wong Yukhei, who has a huge smile on his face and a glint in his eyes that means he is finally entertained with something exciting. Minhyung soon joins them, receiving a hug from both men. 

Youngho props his head onto his hand, placing the elbow on the table and jumps a little at the sudden sound of the cutlery hitting each other. It is nice cutlery, he notices. He's never seen such tableware before, even at their graduation ceremony, so it must've been prepared for this occasion only. 

He shifts his gaze forward, noting a much smaller crowd of other clans in the hall. Among the folks from the clan "S" he sees the stately figure of Lee Taemin. The prince is politely smiling at something his brother Minho was telling him, and quickly covers his mouth with his hand to laugh. 

Youngho smiles himself at the memory of a much younger Taemin who played tricks on his other brother Kibum at school, and never got scolded for it, using the card of the youngest in the family and employing his irresistible charms. Kibum, of course, roughed up his little brother afterwards and chased him around the school yard but he also always protected him from getting in trouble, however small – such as forgetting to eat dinner – it may be. 

It wasn't a surprise when the clan "S" later announced Taemin as their prince. He has nobility rooted deep into him, showing through his words, his posture, and his composed behaviour, and he is the perfect choice to represent the family. 

At the gush of air from the seat next to him, Youngho glaces to his right. Gracefully adjusting into his seat, the fourth prince of their clan is now present at the table. 

"Prince Chittaphon," Youngho nods, holding back a smile.

"I'm no prince yet," politely responds the man. "Not for another hour, at least," he smiles and props his head onto his right hand, mirroring Youngho's pose, whether accidentally or not. On anyone else the smile in combination with the tone of the voice would've appeared cocky, but not on him; instead, he sounds as if he is unintentionally belittling himself.

The prince is beautiful, as he always is. 

Youngho hums in response and concentrates his attention on the Elder Council who enters the hall. The crowd gets significantly quieter; the wave of bows ripples through the room. 

***

"Citizens of the capital," starts the Eldest when the tables are filled with young men and women, and the crowd along the walls calms down. "We are gathered here today to celebrate the important event in the history of our city. Seven princes of the clans "C", "S" and "E" were chosen to establish the strong foundation for our future. These seven men shall represent power, intelligence, and ambition, and their common bond shall symbolise the unity and loyalty that our clans have for each other."

The Eldest takes a small pause to breathe and observe the nodding heads of the crowd. "In respect to the ancient tradition, the seven princes shall perform geommu, dance with the swords."

A rattling sound of claps fills the hall, as seven men stand up from their seats, gathering at the center of the room. Youngho bites back a smile at the sight of Yukhei who has visibly gotten bored with the speech already and glances around himself in the hopes of something interesting catching his eye. 

The servants come out from the back room, carrying the golden swords with maroon tassels that easily sway from the movements.

Youngho notices that a few servants had their belts tied loosely, and frowns at their sloppiness. It is an important occasion, just as the Eldest said, and he expects everyone at the palace to dress accordingly. 

Disorganization from the servants makes him check his own clothes, wiping away the tiny dust particles that set onto the sleeves of his hanbok and straightening the belt from squishing as he sat. He raises his eyes just as the music begins playing, all seven princes already in position to start the dance. 

For the first minute or so, geommu isn't particularly interesting, as the dancers take small steps and gently move their hands to the music, not even touching the swords. Youngho can't deny that he finds this part a bit boring, waiting for the sword action to begin. His eyes jump from one man to another, mesmerized with light reflected on the silky dresses. 

As he observes the dancers, his eyes involuntarily catch the glimpse of worry on one of the servant's faces. After they brought the swords, they simply took a few steps backwards, not going away fully. Youngho checks the faces of the other few servants he can see and they all bear the same worried and somewhat tense expression, eyes darting around and checking on each other. 

Something unpleasant twists in Youngho's guts, sending goosebumps on his skin. He furrows his brows and watches the backs of two servants closest to him, sometimes examining the actions of the others. 

"The guys who brought the swords are acting suspicious, don't you think?" he asked Doyoung who was sitting to his left, not looking away from the object of his scrutiny. 

"No… I think?" Doyoung takes a moment to look the same way Youngho is looking. "I don't know," he concludes with uncertainty. 

The seven dancing young men in the middle take the swords from the floor and switch to the fast-paced part of geommu, swinging the blades with the certainty of many hours of training. The swords glow from the rich sunset light coming through the tall windows, and the fast movements melt the blades into a semblance of golden fire, tamed in the hands of the princes. 

Youngho concentrates his attention on the servant he believes is the senior among the group, judging by the fact that three other men are sporadically turning their heads to look at him. 

The musical instruments change their tune, coming into the last phase of the dance, and slowly the man Youngho is observing produces two steel knives from his sleeves, one in each hand. The servants never carry such knives. Which means that there are at least seven adversaries standing between the crowd and the seven most important people in the room, apart from the Elder Council.

It takes a second for Youngho to react and as soon as he stands up the senior adversary shoutes, surging forward. Youngho jumps over the table, immediately tackling the man closest to him to the floor. 

At the panicked cry somewhere close to him he sees Chittaphon, frozen in place, as the other attacker advances onto him. Youngho plunges himself between the prince and the enemy, front kicking the knives out of the attacker's hands and consequently kicking him in the chest. Then he turns around, grabbing Chittaphon's shoulders to shield him with his whole body and urges him to get away. 

As they weave through the screaming crowd he quickly takes in the location of other princes. Yukhei pushes his attacker away and is immediately helped by Guangheng and Jaemin. Minho, Kibum and Jinki form a protective circle around a crouching figure, most probably Taemin. Alongside himself Youngho sees Taeyong, being quickly ushered away by Yuta. He doesn't catch any signs of Baekhyun, Jongin or Minhyung and that makes him anxious. 

"Here!" exclaimes Youngho, pulling Chittaphon with him onto the staircase, noting the steps of Yuta and Taeyong close nearby. 

The second floor of the palace is quieter, with pretty much everyone still in the hall, but Youngho decides not to stop there and continues running down the corridor. He vaguely remembers the location of the library and tries the first door that comes to mind. Thankfully, his memory is correct.

As the four of them run into the dim room, Yuta closes the door and Youngho letting go of Chittaphon barricades it with the chair propped against the handle.

For a few seconds only their heavy breathing fills the room. Youngho strains his ears, stepping closer to the entrance and trying to decipher any sound coming from downstairs. Distant shouts signal the presence of danger in the palace. 

"What was that?" Chittaphon's shaky voice cuts through the dusty air of the library. 

"We were attacked," suggests Taeyong, taking a few steps towards the shelves and back. "Someone got into the palace, past the guards," it is obvious by his face how fast the cogs in his brain are turning. "They planned it in advance, probably replacing the servants who were supposed to bring the swords to us."

"But why did they wait so long then?" asks Chittaphon, breathing shallow. "They could've done it in the beginning."

"They were waiting for the signal from their senior," suggests Youngho, coming closer to the window to examine the situation outside. 

"But why?" continues interrogating Chittaphon, voice coated in irritation that replaces the worry.

"So that they could have maximum attention?" suggests Yuta, suddenly breaking his silence. The three men turn to look at him and he shifts, continuing. "They wanted everyone to see how they attacked the princes… probably," he shrugs and lowers his gaze, noticeably uncomfortable. 

Youngho shifts his gaze back on the street, concurrently noticing Taeyong's lingered gaze on Yuta. He is most probably trying to decide whether the other man needs to be comforted, Youngho assumes, even despite the fact that Taeyong is actually one of the victims. 

Chittaphon drags a chair from behind the table and sits with a huff. "How long do we have to stay here?" 

"Probably not for long," comments Youngho, pointing at the men he sees running away on the street. Those figures are wearing the same clothes as their attackers did, however, their crowd is lacking one person. 

"They must've captured him," offers Taeyong, who comes closer to see the commotion. 

"Do you think it's safe to come out?" 

"Not now," Taeyong exhales tiderly and clenches his jaw. 

They wait for about fifteen minutes, during which Taeyong must've walked a few kilometers around the library in circles. Yuta suggests for him to sit but after two attempts he understands that his efforts are in vain and sits down himself. Youngho leans on the wall near the window with his hands crossed in front of his chest and is occupying himself with watching Chittaphon writhe his palms and fingers. 

Silence fills the room, broken only by Taeyong's erratic footsteps. Any shouting from the downstairs seems to cease, and the palace outside the library feels abandoned. 

"I'll go check what's happening," sighs Youngho, peeling himself from the wall.

"I'll go with you," nods Taeyong.

"No, wait…" Yuta frowns at Taeyong. "Then I'll go too"

"Well I'm not going to stay here alone," Chittaphon stands up, stepping towards the others.

"Fine," Youngho rolls his eyes. "We all go."

Carefully removing the chair from under the handle, Youngho opens the door just a smidge, peeking out into the corridor. It stays empty, as it was when they came upstairs earlier. Feeling braver, Youngho slowly opens the door wider and steps out. The others follow close. 

They make their way to the staircase, listening to every odd sound, and when they reach the first stair they hear a couple of agitated voices echoing from below. 

"It's the Elder Council," whispers Taeyong into Youngho's ear. 

Familiar voices make them confident that it is finally safe to emerge from their hiding place. As they turn onto the second part of the staircase leading towards the entrance to the palace, they are suddenly met with a dozen of scared at first, but quickly turning relieved gazes.

"Here they are!" exclaims the Eldest. 

"Are you alright?" a short worried-looking man approaches them, who they quickly recognize as their etiquette teacher.

"Yes, seonsaengnim," they bow in response. 

"We were so worried about you, where have you been?" 

He is scolding them, nervousness still lingering in his posture but he doesn't have real heat behind his words. He is worried about his students, even if he is angry at them disappearing.

"We were upstairs, in the library," says Taeyong. 

Their teacher exhales, brows relaxing from the frown. He exchanges a few words with the council and then nods to the four young men. 

"Follow me"

He leads them into the small dining room in the opposite wing from the main hall. As they go along, they see groups of people, some crying, some nervously pacing. A few smile with relief when they see Taeyong and Chittaphon walking around unharmed. Youngho knows that he and Yuta don't matter as much so he doesn't hold onto any hope that people outside of their immediate families, as well as their teachers and friends, are actually worried about them. 

The dining room is quite full already, since it isn't intended for more than thirty people, and currently it is occupied by all the senior members of all three clans. Their teacher ushers the four students to one corner where they discover their friends, to their relief. 

Youngho scans the familiar faces and feels a weight being lifted when he sees everyone present and unharmed, if only a little shaken. Taemin and Jongin are holding onto each other, refusing to step away even for a moment. Baekhyun is chatting with Minhyung, both smiling, probably covering up the fact that deep inside they are scared. 

The Elder Council joins them in the dining room and promptly takes the seats at the table. Three fractions go absolutely quiet, standing around the table and expecting the elders to take charge.

"The palace was attacked," starts the Eldest. "We captured one of the bandits but he swallowed poison that he had on him and died. No one could recognise him."

A few irritated sighs echo in the room. 

"Are all the princes here?"

The crowd nods and hums in accession, pushing the seven men to stand in the front. 

"Good. Are you unharmed?"

They nod, addressing the Eldest politely, and bow. 

"You need protection," the Eldest sighs with a hint of annoyance. "We were planning on deciding upon this matter after the coronation. Unfortunately, the events decided for us."

He leans closer to the other council member as they both whisper among themselves. With a nod, he leans back and continues. "The princes shall consult their clans and choose a few allies for themselves for now, who will stay in their close proximity. Those people must be someone you know well, preferably your fellow students, as they are young and strong," he pauses, thinking over something. "And, as the events of today showed, they can protect you." 

The Eldest stands, and with him so does the rest of the council. "This is a temporary matter, until we find you proper guards. Therefore, the decision must be made now. Tomorrow we shall hold a secret coronation."

The council leaves the dining room. 

As soon as the elders go away, the noise of the crowd gets louder, discussing the matters at hand. Youngho tries to filter out the lull of the conversations, feeling the upcoming headache. 

Suddenly, someone tugs on his sleeve.

"I want you to protect me," quickly says Chittaphon. If he wasn't standing as close, Youngho could've missed his words, but the man is leaning into him, with a desperate look on his face. 

Youngho nods, taken aback by the sudden proposition. He wants to say something as well but Chittaphon releases his sleeve and returns to their division's seniors. Youngho studies Chittaphon's side profile from across the room, noting the occasional smile on his face; but the way he smiles way too quickly suggests he is still not fully back to himself. Youngho feels a wave of empathy for the other man and averts his gaze, giving the prince some privacy.

"Hey," Minhyung approaches him. 

"Hey"

"Are you taken?" Minhyung furrows his brows and laughs. "Wait, no, that sounds weird. You know what I mean"

Youngho laughs a little himself, feeling the nervous tension slowly leave his body. "Yeah, I got it. And, sorry, I'm taken"

"By whom?" the other man's brows shoot into his hairline in surprise. 

"Chittaphon"

"Oh… weird," comments Minhyung but then simply shrugs. "Okay"

Truth is… it is slightly weird. Apart from their latest interaction they aren't particularly close, even considering that they are the members of the same clan. Chittaphon has always been just on the outside of his immediate circle of friends, they both know each other but they aren't each other's first choice for a company. 

That doesn't mean that Youngho is blind, though. He saw Chittaphon grow into an astonishingly beautiful young man and every time he sees him he can't help but hold his eyes on him a little bit longer than it would've been perfectly accepted. He never takes a step towards him in any way but the mere idea that Chittaphon is always somewhere not that far away fills him with unexplainable warmth.

However, when the council announced their order, Youngho's first thought was that he would definitely be appointed to Minhyung, alongside Doyoung and Jaehyun, as they were close friends for many years, but it doesn't seem to be the case. 

His newly appointed friend – if you can even call him that – is Chittaphon, of all people.

He sighs, letting go of the unnecessary speculations from his mind and accepts the constricting headache to take hold.


	2. Up the hill

The coronation is set early in the morning and only the princes, their close friends and the Elder Council are present at the temple. Chilly night air still flows inside, refusing to be warmed up by the cool dawn sun and sending shivers up the young men spines. 

Dark patches of shadows line the corners of the temple, hiding from the light. They'll get smaller during the day but never go away completely; they cling onto the cracks in the walls and long stretches of the stones, and only grow stronger at night. Just as the temple itself, shadows remember the secrets of the past. They stay silent.

Youngho suppresses a yawn as he looks up at the small window near the roof and notices two white doves ruffling their feathers. For a brief moment he wishes to be one of them, basking in the sun, and able to fly away any second. 

He's not unhappy. He just wishes to be free.

The monotonous voice of the Eldest who is taking oaths from the seven princes abruptly stops and Youngho lowers his gaze to pay attention. 

At the nod of the Eldest the men standing behind the princes lower the crowns onto their heads.

"From now on, you are the brotherhood of seven. You represent your clans and, consequently, the whole capital. Byun Baekhyun is your senior, and you should address him as such. You may now go"

The seven princes, _now officially princes_ , bow, and with them their friends. As soon as they step out of the temple, they are led back into the palace to have a small feast in the main hall. 

***

"Just so you know, if one of you addresses me differently than before, I'll punch you," announces Baekhyun, as he removes the crown from his head and throws it on the table in front of him.

"Oh, that's a pity, I was looking forward to calling you 'My emperor'," says Jongin, quickly dodging the hand towel thrown at him, accompanied by the wave of laughter. 

"No, no, you can still call me that," innocently nods Baekhyun, and ignores the noise of protest from Jongin.

The young men occupy two sides of one of three tables, sitting close together and ignoring the suggestions from the servants that they should sit separately. The norms and traditions can't be less relevant to them right now; they are friends, first and foremost. They study together, play together, experience joyous occasions and heartbreaks together. And even in such a big crowd they feel the absence of their younger friends, who couldn't have been chosen to protect the princes due to their age. Youngho sadly notes the lack of Jeno's rolling laughter, ever present at their gatherings. 

"Did they give you anything to do? Some prince business to attend to?" asks Jungwoo.

"No, they said to sit at home and get bored to death," complains Jongin.

"It's for your own protection," reasons Suho who is sitting next to him. 

Jongin hums in response, still not satisfied with the elderly's decision. 

As they eat and drink, the conversation between them flows freely, often interrupted by the outbursts of laughter. It feels natural and brings such a familiar sense of having a normal dinner with your friends that all of them calm down ever so slightly, forgetting the events of the last day for a couple of hours. The morning turns into midday and soon they are politely asked to leave by the servants in order for the workers to clean away the dishes and cutlery and prepare the table for the council's meeting. 

The young men linger outside the hall, a little unsure of what to do.

"I need to practice in the theater," announces Taemin. With that, he and his brothers leave the palace. 

"Hey, you guys wanna go shoot something?" offers Yukhei, dragging about half of the crowd to the archery field with him. 

Jongin excuses himself and his three friends to go to the Elder Council with some vague matter and that leaves only Chittaphon, surrounded by Youngho, Kun and Guanheng in the hallway. 

"You need to go to bed and sleep, you stayed with me all night," Chittaphon gently pushes Kun's shoulder. The man indeed looks like he is about to pass out if he leans on the wall long enough. 

"I'll walk him home," offers Guanheng and, wrapping his hand around Kun's shoulder, leads him away from the palace. 

Youngho clears his throat, suddenly feeling awkward being alone with the prince. 

"I also want to go home," announces the prince. "Will you walk with me?" 

"I don't really have a choice," teases Youngho, smiling with one corner of his mouth. 

"No," Chittaphon smiles as well.

Youngho, never having looked at him from up close, is swiftly shocked to see Chittaphon's smile in full detail. From the distance it always looks like the man is being polite, offering a kind expression to his friends and acquaintances. In reality, observing the man's face, Youngho realises that Chittaphon is harder to read than he originally thought. His smile is reserved, and the glint in his eyes suggests that he knows way more than he shows. What seemed kind and open from afar turns out to be the mask he is wearing. 

It makes Youngho feel uneasy. 

***

They walk to Chittaphon's family house in silence, and Youngho is thankful that all princes live pretty much near the palace, otherwise the long awkward walk would've made him anxious. Or, _more anxious._

"I'll go change," says Chittaphon when they enter the house, disappearing into his room. Youngho nods and starts wandering in the big common room, giving in to yawning from the lack of good night rest. 

He looks over the walls and shelves, noting the abundance of awards, medals hanging on the wall and trophies in between. As Youngho steps closer to examine the engravings, he hears Chittaphon return.

"I didn't know you had so many prizes for dancing," he points to the shelves, genuinely curious.

"Just don't mention it in front of others," the prince answers shortly, even somewhat defensively. "Here," his voice acquires a louder tone, getting Youngho's attention. He is holding some folded clothes in his hands, offering them to the other man. "You should change too."

Youngho accepts the clothing, rubbing the soft fabric between his fingers and then looks questionably at the other man.

"Where should I… I mean, I can change in front of you, that's not a problem," Youngho grins which makes the prince roll his eyes.

"I'll turn away," quietly laughs Chittaphon, covering his eyes and indeed turning his head to another direction. 

Placing the new clothes onto the couch, Youngho quickly removes the dress shirt he was wearing, messily throwing it on the cushion. He decides to remove the trousers as well before picking the new clothes and, as he undoes the belt, he catches the other man trying to catch a glimpse out of the corner of his eyes.

"I thought you said that you won't look."

"Sorry," the grin on his face, clearly reflected in the amused tone of his voice, suggests that he isn't actually sorry. 

After a brief pause to consider whether he should go down that path or not Youngho decides to risk it and adds "You can look if you want to, you know." He switches his dress trousers for the soft comfortable pair Chittaphon brought him. "Just ask next time."

The prince remains silent, still covering his eyes, and Youngho, pulling the shirt on, smiles to himself too.

"Done. Where should I put my clothes?"

"Come, I'll show you"

Chittaphon leads him down the corridor and then through the door to the left to what apparently is his room. White walls and wooden furniture, accompanied by the light curtains on the windows make the room brighter than any other space in the house, yet the bedroom feels cozy and inviting. 

"In here," Chittaphon opens one of the drawers and pushes aside some of his clothes. Youngho hesitates for a moment but eventually places his belongings inside. 

"So what do you want to do?"

"I'm hungry," reasons Chittaphon, tilting his head to the side. 

They end up bringing the food into his room but because Youngho insists they can't eat on the bed in fear of staining the sheets they move to the floor near the exit to the balcony that overlooks the backyard garden. 

"I wanted to say thank you," suddenly says Chittaphon, breaking the small silence that set between them. "Thank you for saving me yesterday"

"You're welcome," Youngho smiles amiably. He contemplates whether he should've given a different response, something like _'I was only being a good citizen'_ but that seems dumb and somehow foreign. Even if they weren't close as Youngho and Minhyung are, they are still relatively close, coming from the same clan and spending the majority of their lives in each other's vicinity. Though, he supposes, acquaintances don't usually spend that much time adoring the other's beauty.

Youngho mentally winces with a tinge of doubt whether being this close to Chittaphon could potentially be bad for him.

"I don't know what came over me, but when that man attacked me… I froze. I couldn't move."

Chittaphon looks sad as he shifts, slumping his shoulders, and tries to appear smaller than he is. There is an edge to his voice and Youngho can sense it as a tell-tale sign that Chittaphon is angry with himself.

"Hey, remember our first sword-wielding session?" Youngho asks, changing the topic. "Taemin dropped his sword and got so scared and had to excuse himself for the rest of the class"

Chittaphon snickers at the memory, and in return reminds him of another class when Jongin broke the training doll. As they laugh at the stories from their past, Youngho notices that the sadness seems to creep away from the prince's face.

"You should eat this, it's really good," mentions Chittaphon, waving his chopsticks at the small white plate. When Youngho reaches for it, Chittaphon snatches it away. "Wait, no, let me feed you. You are my hyung, after all, I should treat you"

Youngho scoffs, smiling at the same time, and allows Chittaphon to bring the food closer to his mouth. The prince follows the line of his chopsticks with his eyes and then rests the gaze on Youngho's lips as the older man chews. The stare feels heavy and Youngho has to turn away, covering his mouth.

"Tasty," he says and feels a blush spill on his cheeks. 

"Taeyong brought this a few days ago"

"Weren't you all busy preparing your dance and coronation speech?"

"Yeah, but you know him. He's always thinking about everyone else first"

"I'm glad that he wasn't chosen as the only prince from our clan," suddenly confesses Youngho, feeling like he can share this piece of mind with Chittaphon. "There's too much to worry about, he'd beat himself over any mistake. I saw him buried in books as he prepared for his new duties, and that was way before yesterday. At least he has you guys, together with him."

Chittaphon hums in response, looking out into the garden but at the same time not focusing his gaze on anything in particular.

"But we don't know what we're doing," he admits, his voice small. "The elders say that we'll just continue doing what the previous three rulers did, but it's not the same. Everything will change now."

"I guess you're right," nods Youngho. He doesn't understand, nor truly feels the weight placed upon the princes' shoulders, and deep down he is glad that he doesn't. The only consolation he can offer is listening to his friends, who bear the new burden. 

"Did the Council tell you when you'll meet with them?"

"No. We were supposed to be delegated responsibilities but the... attack changed the plans. Baekhyun's father and Taemin's father go away overseas the next week, and Taeyong's uncle isn't feeling too good. I don't know if we'll just meet with the one or two of them but that… seems wrong. There were ruling together as three, so…" he gets quiet, not finishing the sentence.

"Yeah, I understand"

They fall silent; the swarm of uneasy thoughts rushing over them. Their city and their clan's future are no simple matters but it is important for them, and they need to get this out of their system. 

"It's late. You should go home," Chittaphon looks at him with a neutral expression.

"And leave my prince alone?" Youngho feigns a shocked look.

"I'll be okay," Chittaphon smiles at his antics, his face showing a genuine emotion for a change, and he gently shoves Youngho on the shoulder. "Go rest." 

As Youngho leaves the prince's house, after quickly changing into his own clothes, he notices that the fabric of his garments smell of Chittaphon's perfume. It isn't an unpleasant fragrance. 

***

Yuta is buzzing with excitement all day. He is closely following Taeyong as the man is doing his daily duties, such as studying the papers his uncle instructed him to. It is hard to make Taeyong take a break to eat but Yuta manages to pull him away long enough for two full meals which he considers a success. 

As the night falls onto the city, the heated ground almost as if lets out a sigh. Warmed up by the sun, the trees now sway gently in the evening wind, rustling their leaves and whispering secrets to each other. 

"Want to go outside?" suddenly asks Taeyong, as he pushes away the stack of important-looking papers. 

Yuta nods, hiding his smile from the unusual proposition. It is the longest stretch of time that he has ever spent with Taeyong alone; there is always someone around, and as much as Yuta loves his friends, he could only dream of this opportunity up until now. He takes a few deep breaths to calm his rapidly beating heart – they aren't on a date, after all – and follows Taeyong into the gardens. 

The prince leads him onto the patch of grass in between the flower beds in the middle of the garden.

As Yuta sits next to him, he hears Taeyong sigh tiredly.

"Are you okay?"

"Yeah," Taeyong smiles.

"It's okay, you know. You can tell me"

Taeyong looks up and studies his face for a few moments. "I know. But I'm alright. Nothing I can't manage"

Yuta presses his lips together, stopping himself from saying something cheesy or getting too much into Taeyong's personal life. He can't – he shouldn't – even if he wanted to. His hands itch from how much he wants to hug Taeyong and press him closer, making all the negative thoughts go away, but he is scared he would make his friend uncomfortable. 

If he feels this way it doesn't mean that Taeyong reciprocates. 

Yuta curls his hands into fists and places them beside himself on the grass. 

"Can you tell me about the constellations? I can never get them right."

"Sure," nods Taeyong, not even hiding a smile on his face.

He starts pointing at the sky, reciting the knowledge their teachers have installed into them all these years. Yuta nods along and asks questions he already knows the answers to, beiling the diligent student that he is. Taeyong doesn't comment on that and enthusiastically tells him how scientists of their own clan made all those discoveries about the stars decades ago, naming the names and places, some close to the capital, some very far away. 

And if Yuta spends more time observing Taeyong's face lit up with excitement rather than looking at the sky, the prince doesn't comment on that either.


	3. Probability

As the next day rolls in, the sense of familiarity returns back into Youngho's life. He is freed of protective duties for the next couple of days since Kun and Guanheng will take shifts to accompany the prince and now he has to catch up on work at the observatory. The new building is much better than the old one where Youngho used to play as a child when his parents brought him there, unable to leave their kid to anyone. 

As the new building construction was nearing the end he was told he'd work there one day, when he is of age. And sure enough, here he is. His parents, however, chose to remain at the old observatory. 

The day passes quickly, albeit not without difficulties of having to remember this much new information. The numbers and formulas seem endless but when he thinks he can't take it anyone the custodian lets him go home. 

Though, home isn't where he is heading. 

Minhyung and Yukhei invited him to practice sword-fighting on the field behind the factory and he couldn't resist the proposition. Technically, they aren't supposed to be there – even without the recent attack – since sword-fighting practice should be regulated and, well, safe. And there is absolutely nothing safe about Yukhei tying a ribbon over his head to cover his eyes and swinging his sword in all directions, hoping to hit at least something and not someone. 

Wind blowing through the field is warm, and Youngho closes his eyes for a few moments to let the breeze gently touch his face. 

"Youngho! It's your turn," Minhyung's voice cuts through the daze. 

Youngho grips his sword tighter and shuts his eyes. 

"On your right!"

He hears a whooshing sound to his right side and swishes in what he hopes is the general proximity of his target and then he is mildly shocked when the blade comes in contact with the ceramic vase. As he opens his eyes, he realises he wasn't that far off and quite a big chunk of the vase is now missing. 

"Nice," exclaims Yukhei. 

They swap places a few more times, throwing the old kitchenware at each other and hitting it with various degrees of success. 

"How's Chittaphon doing?" asks Minhyung, unprompted.

"Alright," Youngho keeps the plate he was about to throw in his hands, slightly taken aback by the question. 

"I'm surprised you're not complaining about him yet"

"Why would I complain?"

"Well," Minhyung shrugs at the same time as Yukhei laughs out loud. "He can be a lot to handle"

"You can say that," grins Yukhei.

"No, he's… okay?" concludes Youngho. He is genuinely confused by Minhyung's question and now is going through every interaction he's had with Chittaphon that can be considered as out of the ordinary.

Minhyung seems to have dropped the topic, but his face doesn't look satisfied with the answer. Youngho decides not to dwell on it and throws a place, if only a little bit too fast.

***

The public library is a popular place among the citizens. This is why, as soon as Taeyong and Yuta came in, the librarian led them into the separate room, away from the noise, to let the prince and his friend study without interruptions. 

Yuta has been staring at the book for the past ten minutes, in vain, as he realises that his brain can't take even one new term. He yawns, covering his mouth and raises his eyes at Taeyong who's still occupied by taking notes at the other end of the table.

"Are you tired?" quietly asks Yuta.

Taeyong absentmindedly hums in response, probably not even registering a question.

"Tyong," calls him Yuta. "Taeyong"

"Huh?" the man finally tears his eyes away from the paper. He does look tired.

"Let's take a break"

"Uh… sure," he reluctantly places the pen on the table, unsure of what to do. 

"Are you hungry?"

"I think so," Taeyong stands up, scraping the floor with the chair. "What do you want?"

Yuta wants to mention that he was the one who suggested for him to eat and that he should be the one to bring him food but instead he sighs and asks for a kimbap. 

They shouldn't eat in the library, of course, but it's another little privilege they have. 

Taeyong brings the food in, and they push all the papers and books aside, because they're not barbarians, after all.

"I found yakgwa at the vendor's stall, do you want some?"

"Sure," Yuta nods, accepting the honey pasty. "Thank you"

"I'm pretty sure the last time I ate these was on Chuseok last year. Ugh, I should've bought them sooner, they're so good."

Yuta hums in response, eating his share of yakgwa as well, and, after he swallows, he asks "Was that the one when we drank too much?"

"No, that was two years ago," Taeyong grins at the memory. 

"Oh, yeah," Yuta snickers. "At least afterwards we got smarter. That was the worst hangover I've ever had."

"I'm pretty sure you drank more than any of us," Taeyong says, fully laughing now. 

"I got carried away," Yuta lowers his eyes, remembering that day. "I was… trying to suppress something"

"What?" asks Taeyong, suddenly serious. 

"Nevermind," Yuta says, regretting his slip-up.

"No, tell me. Was there something bothering you? _Someone_ bothering you?"

"Not bothering…" Yuta sighs. "I was… sort of… trying to decide if I should confess being in love with someone."

"Oh," Taeyong says in surprise.

"Yeah"

"Yuta…" starts Taeyong but doesn't continue.

His silence makes Yuta meet his eyes but what he finds there isn't curiosity but anxiety. 

"What?" asks Yuta, in sudden panic.

"You… uh," Taeyong licks his lips and looks away. "You don't remember, then."

"What," Yuta asks again, this time it's not so much of a question, as much as shock.

Taeyong rubs his neck and bites the inside of his mouth. "You confessed."

Yuta thinks he's dreaming. Either that or he's dead. This absolutely cannot be happening… or, _didn't happen._ There was no way that he, sober or drunk, confessed. No. 

"Yuta…" 

Taeyong tries to catch his hand, as Yuta stands up and runs away from the library. 

_No._

***

The evening gently settles around the field, and as the colours blend into each other, making it hard to distinguish them apart, the three young men return to the town centre. 

"Behold, great news from the Elder Council," a loud voice ripples through the streets, apparently coming from the main square. 

Minhyung pulls his friends with him to access the commotion. 

"The adversaries who threatened our princes were caught and punished. The citizens can sleep peacefully"

Someone behind Youngho clicks his tongue disapprovingly and, as the man turns his head, he realises it is Baekhyun. His friends from the clan "E" whose names Youngho remembers quite well, Suho and Chanyeol, are standing right nearby.

"I can't believe it," the prince grumbles, deeply frowning.

"What do you mean?" asks Minhyung.

"They didn't catch anyone. They're saying that to show how great and protective they are."

"How do you know?"

"Being the senior prince has its advantages," Baekhyun tilts his head. "For example, I know the Council hides something"

"What do you mean?" Youngho drops his voice lower.

Baekhyun motines for them to talk somewhere more private and leads clan "C" members and his own friends into the adjacent street. 

"Jongin talked to the Council, offering his help to identify the man they caught at the ceremony. He said that he was willing to ask everyone himself, if needed. They refused. Moreover, they told him to get lost and stop concerning himself with such matters"

"I'm pretty sure this is how the Council usually behaves," shrugs Minhyung.

"When Jongin went to the infirmary to look at the man, he was forbidden to enter. I tried to do it myself too, and they said they got rid of the man. But they still didn't let me in," Baekhyun shakes his head, clearly frustrated that he couldn't use his novice powers.

"Well, that's… odd," concludes Youngho. "But how do you know they didn't find whoever attacked us? Maybe they just don't want panic or riot"

"Because I overheard them making up this statement that you just heard. One of them asked whether people would believe them and the other said that of course, because they're the Council."

The young men exchange glances in silence, trying to turn the new information in their heads. They linger on the dimly lit street as the street lights are lit up one by one. 

The night falls onto town.


	4. Ethereal and earthly

The city returns back to normal quite quickly. The attack on the princes is forgotten over the next few days and after a full week the citizens are excitedly swarming into the theater to observe prince Taemin's performance on stage.

Youngho is invited both as Taemin's friend and as Chittaphon's protection for the evening, though the Council kept insisting that these measures are excessive. The princes discussed the matter and the weird behavior from the Council and decided to stick by each other for a little bit longer. 

Wooden chair creaks under Youngho, as he shifts in his seat. 

"Ten!" exclaims a young man's voice to his left. 

Youngho turns to see Sicheng sidestepping in front of the seats and getting closer to where Youngho and Chittaphon are sitting. 

At the call Chittaphon gets up and as Sicheng finally makes his way to him, envelops him in a hug. "Winwin, hello"

They sit down, excitedly sharing the latest news and Youngho, looking at the back of Chittaphon's head, feels abandoned. They weren't even talking before Sicheng arrived but lately they've been enjoying each other's company even in silence. The interruption feels intrusive. 

Youngho feels he was thrown out of the rowing boat as the oarsmen kept pushing and twisting forward. And he was still in the water, cold and alone. 

His sulking expression is quickly covered by the darkness as the performance begins.

***

Taemin is ethereal, as always. 

The way he moves and dances is captivating, making you forget how to breathe or that you need to breathe at all. 

On stage Taemin is not just himself, he transforms into this flowing ang glowing creature, almost a siren, luring everybody watching in. Should he use his powers for evil, the whole world would fall to their knees for him.

Instead, he bows at the end of the first act, politely smiles and leaves the stage. 

The lights are spilling into the darkness of the hall, pulling the audience out of the transe. 

Youngho stretches his hands and stands up to bring blood back into his legs. Chittaphon and Sicheng jump right back to their conversation and Youngho, suddenly feeling annoyed, decides to find his friends. 

Yukhei, Minhyung and Jaehyun are easy to spot near the concession stand, as they are trying to eat their body weight in pastries. 

"Leave some for others," mockingly scolds them Youngho.

"No," recites back Yukhei, mouth full.

Jaehyun offers Youngho one of the songpyeons he's holding, and Youngho takes it, gladly. 

"I'll tell Park-seonsaengnim to go hard on you during tomorrow's practice," says Taeyong, appearing out of nowhere. Yuta trails behind him, though not as close as he usually does.

"How about this?" Minhyung stretches out his palm with a bungeoppang placed on top. 

Taeyong shakes his head, feigning disappointment at the bribery but takes the fish-shaped dessert after all. He tries to offer one half of it to Yuta but the man refuses to meet his eyes. 

Youngho makes a mental note to ask them what happened later.

After a few minutes the bell announces the end of the break and then the subsequent start of the second act, as the young men return to their seats.

"Where were you?" asks Chittaphon when Youngho sits down next to him. 

"Eating," Youngho grumbles, getting defensive. _Was your best friend Sicheng, or Winwin, not entertaining enough?_ he wants to add but he doesn't.

"I see," Chittaphon turns away, unperturbed by his tone. 

Youngho frowns and tries to focus on the performance.

The second act is as beautiful as the first, even more so. Transparent pieces of fabric are flowing around, looking weightless; the dancers are moving flawlessly, copying Taemin's movements like shadows. The music is fast but then it is slow again, only to cascade into nothingness and return, as a whisper at first, and then louder, prominently taking over the hall. 

At a certain moment the dancers bring a dozen silver swords, and suddenly Youngho feels pressure on his right hand when someone – Chittaphon – squeezes it. 

It clicks fast and unpleasant – the prince is reminded of the attack at the sight of the swords.

Youngho gently places the palm of his left hand on top of Chittaphon's. The prince's grip relaxes, if only a little.

Neither of them look at each other or mention it and break away as soon as the performance ends. 

***

Chittaphon insists they leave early and excuses himself and Youngho who reluctantly agrees to follow the prince home. He is concerned for the man's safety, of course, but, if he was being completely honest, the evening leaves a weird aftertaste. Youngho is irritated and he feels like he wants to snap at everyone around him.

The prince's house is quiet.

As they enter, they go straight to his room, not lighting up the lamps anywhere else. Youngho stumbles into the wall, confused by the unfamiliar landscape, and Chittaphon pulls him forward by his hand. 

The bedroom is vastly different from the last time Youngho saw it. Dress shirts, trousers, hanboks, belts and a million other things are scattered on the floor and every available surface, turning a fully white room into a colourful mess. 

"Sorry… about that," Chittaphon gestures vaguely and pushes a pile of clothing away from the bed, plopping down on it himself. 

Youngho lingers for a moment and, not finding a better solution, carefully sits on the edge of the bed. 

"Why are you so far away? Come closer," invites Chittaphon.

The proposition petrifies Youngho, if only just for a few seconds. 

He shouldn't. 

He really shouldn't. 

He feels it in his core that coming closer to Chittaphon is a dangerous enterprise. Should he give in now, there is no way he can ever get out. 

Youngho looks at the prince.

Chittaphon looks back, sprawled across the pillows. As Youngho remains where he is, the prince sits down and scoots closer himself. 

His face is hard to read, impossible even. 

"Why 'Ten'?" Youngho blurts out the question that was bothering him all day.

"It's a nickname," Chittaphon shrugs. "Sicheng and I gave one to each other when we were little. I don't remember what it means"

"No one else calls you that?"

"Why, do you like it?" Chittaphon tilts his head, smiling only with his lips. 

"It's nice," Youngho notes instead of properly admitting of liking it.

"If you want to call me Ten, we need a nickname for you too"

Youngho studies his face that is now closer than before and desperately tries to compose himself. Chittaphon is… something else. He appears fragile and deity, but Youghno knows the power of muscles hidden under his clothes. He's seen him train in class. 

Chittaphon is making him tell the truth, always, because Youngho is sure that the prince will be able to tell if he ever lies to him. 

Chittaphon is capricious. And he always gets what he wants.

He is alluring. Captivating. But Youngho isn't sure whether it's not a bait. He isn't sure that should he come closer, the trap wouldn't snap around him.

Or maybe, jaws.

Chittaphon could eat him alive and not leave a trace. Youngho feels it, his heart hammering in his chest. 

"John," says Youngho, using the word as a shield from Chittaphon's emanations in the small space between them.

"John?" the prince repeats.

"Yeah. I like this name."

"But it's too harsh for you. How about… Johnny?"

The prince is sitting close, so close, that the heat coming from his body, his smile, accompanied by the new nickname uttered so intimately – all this sends shivers down Youngho's spine. 

"I like it," he says, this voice quivering slightly.

"Good. It's important that you like it," Chittaphon is somehow even closer, his warm breath reaching Youngho's cheek. 

At the back of his mind Youngho almost hears his brain telling him that not only this is wrong due to their different status but also very, very dangerous on a personal level. He tries to hold onto this thought, and tag himself out, following the lead, but the prince cups his cheek and gently swipes the finger on his cheekbone, simultaneously swiping away all thoughts from his head.

Chittaphon leans forward, but stops short. He's giving Youngho a final way out. The time for making decisions, for any considerations and hesitations is over, it's now or never. 

Youngho pulls the remaining pieces of his self-composure together and puts his hand on Chittaphon's chest. He's not pushing away but also isn't letting the prince to come forward. 

_It's wrong._

Even if he wants this. 

Even if it pains him to refuse. 

_But,_ he tries to console himself, _it's for the greater good._ Chittaphon is confused, and most probably still shaken from the earlier incident, or he's trying to prove a point to Youngho, not sure which one exactly.

Chittaphon leans back, seemingly neutral expression on his face, but Youngho quickly notices his tightly shut lips. 

"I'm going home," announces Youngho, getting up.

"Good," drops the prince quietly. 

It seems to be the end of their conversation but then, as Youngho is almost out of the door, Chittaphon says "You're relieved of your duties. I don't need protection anymore."

Youngho closes the door behind him. 

***

It's a good thing they didn't kiss, he thinks, mindlessly swishing around water in the bathtub. They were treading onto the dangerous territory and he wasn't sure he had a ground to stand on. He can't be romantically involved with the prince, and not just for any moral purposes. 

Chittaphon is quicksand. 

And as soon as Youngho is buried and dies, suffocating, the trap will find a new victim. He would leave nothing. 

Youngho sadly chuckles at the dramatic metaphor his head came up with, but doesn't feel much better. After all, even if he remains alive, a part of him would die as soon as Chittaphon gets bored with him.

He doesn't want to die. 

***

Yuta refuses to meet Taeyong's eyes all day. He absolutely _can't._

Their conversation at the library threw him into the state of constant panic and he honestly didn't remember agreeing to come to Taemin's performance. 

But, what's done is done and there is nothing he can do about it, other than follow Taeyong close, _but not too close_ , and wishing he was somewhere else. 

"Yuta," Taeyong calls him in the dark of the hall at the end of the second act. 

He doesn't respond, hoping that his friend leaves him be.

"Yuta, come home with me today"

It's painful. It's nerve-wracking. 

Yuta clenches his teeth and sighs. 

"Fine," he exhales.

Taeyong probably wants to talk to him and politely decline his feelings. So, it's better to rip off the bandage now, Yuta reasons, than to wait any longer. It'll hurt less in the long run. 

***

Taeyong all but drapes himself over Yuta after dinner at home, as he sits nearby and places his legs on Yuta's lap, accompanied by the hand on his shoulder. 

That makes Yuta angry. Taeyong keeps talking about other things, not even mentioning the elephant in the room once and that's infuriating. Yuta wants to believe this isn't on purpose but his heart's strings are pulled tight with every squeeze of Taeyong's hand and every time the prince smiles brightly or bursts with that resonant laugh of his.

Finally, Yuta snaps.

"How did I confess?"

"What?" Taeyong stops mid-sentence, confused.

"Two years ago on Chuseok, when I was drunk. How did I confess?" He avoids his eyes. _How could I tell you something I've been hiding all those years?_

Taeyong thinks for a moment and then tells him. "You came up to me and said 'Taeyoung, I need to tell you something. I love you.' Then you kissed me"

Yuta catches his breath, horrified.

"On the cheek, I mean," smiles Taeyong sheepishly. 

"You… you didn't tell me anything."

"I thought we figured out that telling you something that evening would be ineffective, since you didn't remember that," he teases with no malice in his voice.

"I mean afterwards," Yuta feels his cheeks get hotter and he hopes the blush isn't prominent.

"The next day you behaved as if nothing happened. So I thought it didn't matter."

Yuta sighs, suddenly feeling bone-tired, even more so from the weight of Taeyong almost on top of him. "I'm sorry I made you uncomfortable"

"It's okay, don't be sorry"

Yuta rolls his eyes at this response. He doesn't understand Taeyong and how he can just say stuff like that. If someone confessed their love to Yuta he'd probably freak out. 

"I hope this doesn't change anything between us," Yuta says, sadness creeping into his voice and he hopes Taeyong doesn't notice it.

"Well, I've known it for two years…" 

Yuta is sure that Taeyong is smiling, as evident from his voice, but he still doesn't look at him. After a brief pause Yuta feels Taeyong's fingers lightly stroking his cheek. 

"Do you really wish that nothing changes?"

There's something in Taeyong's voice, something deep and yet vulnerable. 

Yuta braces himself and looks him in the eyes. 

Taeyong is beautiful. He is looking directly at Yuta, searching his expression, still gently touching his cheek and Yuta forgets that he could shift his gaze and look anywhere else.

He remembers that he was asked a question as Taeyong's eyebrows shoot up slightly. 

"What do you mean?" there's no strength to his voice but Taeyong seems to hear him just fine. 

"I was hoping it would… change something, that is."

Yuta doesn't know what to say. He doesn't know what to feel. He isn't sure that he understands what Taeyong is implying because he wants it to mean so much but this can't be what's really happening. Yuta is confused, and the world is too loud. He hides his face into his hands and breathes in, deeply.

"Yuta?" he hears Taeyong's voice, now worried. "Did I say something wrong? I'm sorry I didn't want to assume…"

"Oh my god, please, hyung," Yuta removes his hands from his face, cupping Taeyong's face and before his worrying thoughts swallow him kisses Taeyong.

Only a second passes, probably, but it's all Yuta ever needed. 

He leans back, regretting his outburst and starting to remove his hands from his friend's face, when he finally opens his eyes and sees the expression on Taeyong's face.

His lips are slightly parted and he looks confused at first, but when he sees that Yuta is backing down, Taeyong grabs his hands, placing them back on his cheeks, and kisses Yuta himself. 

The second kiss is braver. 

As they go over the initial shock, they realise how uncomfortable their position on the couch is, so, following a series of shallow pecks, Yuta drags Taeyong on top of him, the prince's legs on either side of him, enveloping. 

Taeyong must've considered this as a further encouragement, since the next kiss is deeper and stronger. 

Yuta loudly exhales through his nose, unsurprised with how hot his breath is already. 

Their kisses get wetter, now with way more tongue action involved. Yuta puts his hands on Taeyong's back and brings him closer to himself, wanting to make their bodies into a single unit, inseparable. 

He waited too goddamn long, so many years yearning and watching from afar. He wants to touch Taeyong as much as he can to make up for every moment he wanted to hug him but didn't. 

His fingers crumple Taeyong's shirt, and he feels his friend's hands on his body as well, touching, caressing, squeezing, _exploring._ This is new, but somehow, so very, very right. This is what they were supposed to be doing all along, Yuta thinks.

Taeyong reluctantly leaves his lips and starts pressing open-mouthed kisses onto his jaw and then lower on his neck. He doesn't go far down, quickly returning to his cheeks, and even if it's hard to admit at the moment, but Yuta glad they're not going further right now, taking a small break. Too many things are happening and he wants to take his time to appreciate them better. 

"Do you want to stay the night?" asks Taeyong.

Yuta nods.


	5. Rain

It's raining. 

The drops are hitting the roof, a steady rhythm that soothes back to sleep. This is the first thing Taeyong notices and then almost gives in and dozes off again but not before wondering why his back feels unusually hot. A few moments later he realises that he can hear and feel other man sleeping right next to him, hugging him from behind.

Yuta's hand is holding him tight across the stomach, pressing their bodies closer.

Yuta stayed with him that night, not for the first time in their lives, but now it's different. They hugged, they kissed, they talked for hours and fell asleep only when the faint light of the dawn started creeping into the room.

Taeyong isn't sure he would be able to escape his embrace even if he wanted to. Fortunately, there's no other place he'd rather be right now.

He falls asleep again.

***

He dreams of Chuseok from two years ago, the day when Yuta confessed. Right now, in the dream, he's not himself but rather he is watching the two of them from afar. 

He sees himself in shock when his past-self hears what Yuta tells him, and he remembers, in all detail, as if it was yesterday. That day he couldn't believe his ears, because… Yuta? Liking him? Loving him, even? 

Sure, he knew they were close, and sure, all his friends teased him about Yuta always being around Taeyong, and of course - _of course_ \- he caught himself thinking how beautiful - and amazing, and caring, and loving - Yuta is. 

But he never knew Yuta reciprocated any of this. 

The kiss on the cheek left him dizzy, and as soon as Yuta ran away, Taeyong had to grab a chair standing nearby not to fall. 

His cheek burned the rest of the evening. 

Taeyong who's watching himself in the dream, lifts his hand to his face and he's almost certain he feels hot skin under his fingers. 

***

When Taeyong wakes up the second time, he sees Yuta lying next to him, studying his face. 

"Good morning," smiles Taeyong, stretching. 

"Morning," there's a small smile on Yuta's lips, but his brows are furrowed.

"What's wrong?" Taeyong's palm cups the man's face before he even thinks of it. 

Yuta hesitates to say anything and meet his eyes but then signs, determined to say something. "Are we… Are you… still sure?" 

"About what?"

"What happened yesterday"

Taeyong can't believe his ears. He's so overwhelmed with emotions and words that he wants to tell Yuta to make him feel just how exactly sure Taeyong is, but it's too much, so he opts for hugging Yuta closer and burying his face in the man's shoulder. 

"Yes," he says, finally, kissing Yuta's neck. "I'm still sure"

As they still lie in bed a hour after, Yuta braiding Taeyong's hair over and over again, brushing through his hair with his fingers after making a few braids, and Taeyong dozing in and out of sleep, propped on Yuta's stomach, he confirms to himself that there truly isn't anywhere he'd rather be. 

***

Chittaphon is walking on the street, feeling like he hates every single person passing by. The rain doesn't help – it's annoying, it's wet and it's making his shoes dirty; the umbrella is heavy and he'd rather be in bed.

Breathing in and out, he reminds himself, he's on his way to meet Sicheng, which is a good thing. Sicheng is going to make him smile, they'd hug and laugh about something unimportant. 

Sicheng is waiting for him by the lake. It's autumn now, and the water looks muddy, unlike it is every summer. He knows it because they used to spend countless hours after school with their friends, and he still comes to this place every so often.

"I hope you weren't waiting too long," Chittaphon pushes a smile onto his face. 

"No," responds Sicheng, fumbling with his umbrella.

"You wanted to tell me something?" he decides to get right to what's apparently bothering his friend, guessing that it's probably the same thing that caused Sicheng to ask for a meeting so urgently. 

"Ten, I…" he doesn't meet his eyes. "I want to join the S clan."

"What?" a smile falls from his face. "Why?"

"I already talked about it with the Council and they say that it's possible, but they would only allow something like that once. I…" he hesitates. "I want to dance, like Taemin and his brothers."

Chittaphon stays still, a million different thoughts flooding his head, way too loud, so he can't form a response.

"I'm sorry," says Sicheng.

"Why?" Chittaphon snaps..

"Why am I sorry?" Sicheng harrumphs, awkwardly. "As I said, they probably won't allow it again. I knew that you wanted to…"

"No, why didn't you tell me anything about it before?" he feels anger rushing through his veins and clenches the umbrella handle, not sure what to do with his hands – or with himself – and the feeling of betrayal spills like a dropped wine glass over the pristine white tablecloth.

"I… I'm sorry," Sicheng repeats himself, again. 

Chittaphon refuses to listen to him any further and leaves. He doesn't know where to go, but he needs to be somewhere - anywhere - but next to Sicheng right now. 

His first thought is to share his frustration with Yangyang but upon knocking on the man's door and finding out that Yangyang is busy with sword practice today, Chittaphon is left with nowhere to go. He stands in the middle of the street, unable to comprehend everything at once, and, in a sudden fit of emotion, throws his umbrella on the ground. 

He feels a few rain droplets immediately fall onto his face and thinks about how his clothes are going to get wet, and this is all his fault. Frustrated, takes a few shallow breaths, his chest constricts and a sob comes out. His eyes are watering, while he desperately tries not to cry, because what could be more pathetic than crying in the rain. 

He dabs his eyes with his sleeves, and looks around, scared that someone might've seen him. 

At the other end of the street he catches the sight of Youngho getting into his house. He is too far away to see Chittaphon have a mental breakdown, thankfully, but the idea is born in the prince's head. He picks up his umbrella.

The time between a knock on the door and the door opening feels like forever, and Chittaphon almost changes his mind twice but then he is met by Youngho standing in the doorway and he can't leave even if he wanted to. Youngho is looking at him expectantly with a mild surprise on his face.

"Prince Chittaphon?"

"Let me in," it's an order, and he hates that he has to use his powers to get what he wants, but that doesn't matter, that's just another thing to hate himself for, and he'll care about it later. 

Youngho's expression hardens slightly, but he steps away. 

Chittaphon pulls the door closed behind himself but doesn't enter further into the house, instead leaning onto the wooden surface with his back. 

Youngho doesn't say anything, instead he crosses his arms, standing on the other end of the hallway, occasionally looking at him.

Chittaphon drops his gaze on the floor.

"You asked me about my dancing prizes."

Youngho remains silent, possibly intrigued by the sudden start of the conversation. Chittaphon clears his throat, and raises his eyes to the ceiling, pushing back tears. 

"At first it was nothing serious, a hobby I had. But then I started spending more time dancing and my parents made a deal with me: if I excel at school and study languages as much as I dance they allow me to do whatever I want. But…" he clenches his fists, when he feels his breath falter and a few tears falling down his cheeks without his own volition. "No matter how much I liked it, I couldn't be a professional dancer, because the members of our clan are 'engineers, and scientists and people who push our society forward, and there's nothing valuable in your dancing'," the words said by his clan's seniors are burning in his mind and on his tongue, forever engraved on the tombstone of his dream. 

Finally he breaks down, unable to stop himself, tears pouring out, and he tries not to sob too violently and shuts his eyes.

"What happened?" Youngho asks, now standing much closer, judging by the loudness of his voice. 

Chittaphon doesn't look up, but he does try to calm down enough to form words. 

"Sicheng wants to join the S clan. To dance. The elders allow it."

A silence falls between them, only Chittaphon's shallow breathing loud enough to break it.

He feels a hand placed on his shoulder and when he opens his eyes he sees Youngho, close. Suddenly, he is reminded that just a few days ago it was Youngho who broke his heart - _for the second time in his life_ \- and that coming to his house probably wasn't the smartest idea.

Before Youngho could say anything, Chittaphon drops something like "I should go" and opens the door. He doesn't run away, not really. But he goes further away from Youngho. 

***

As he's sitting alone in his room, his mind is busy supplying him with all the memories from their childhood. His main feeling is disbelief of how weird that it came down to this. 

Sicheng was always by his side. Now he isn't. Betrayal tastes bitter.

Youngho wasn't someone who Chittaphon was intimate with, but someone who was interesting enough to ponder what it was like to date someone like him. The prince thought it would be the easiest thing in the world, because Youngho is caring and funny, always smiling broadly and flirting left and right. Turns out, Youngho can break his heart like no one else, and this time it hurts way more.

The past feels so weird and distant it might not have even happened.

***

Their first meeting with Youngho was probably somewhere in the kindergarten, and Chittaphon doesn't remember it at all. What he does remember, however, is one day at school when the first snow came. 

The pupils were sitting down in the class, busy with their history lesson when Yukhei shouted "Snow!" and suddenly the crowd of middle-schoolers was pouring out into the yard to catch snowflakes and throw snowballs at each other. 

A small battle quickly turned into full-on war with a bunch of teenagers occupying the opposing ends of the street. Chittaphon was standing behind a pile of wooden crates, busy with making snowballs, when he heard a war cry somewhere near him. Too slow in his actions, he only had time to lift his head up to see Donghyuck running at him with a handful of snow.

Chittaphon shielded his face but instead of being bombarded with snow, he only heard Donghyuck's receding laughter. When he lowered his hands, Chittaphon saw a figure standing in front of him – the one who saved him from the attack. The boy knew who was shielding him even before the tall guy turned towards him.

"Don't leave your flank open," said Youngho and proceeded to throw more snowballs onto the other side of the street.

Chittaphon didn't like to feel weak and in need of help. However, Youngho didn't make him feel that way. He helped him, as a friend, as a battle companion. This was a new feeling Chittaphon never felt before.

He stored this memory and cherished it greatly, unable to explain why it made him giggly and warm. 

***  
In another memory, he recollects the first time Chittaphon decided that his heart should be protected behind the highest walls, not letting it beat faster because of other people since it only resulted in getting hurt.

The three of them, Chittaphon, Taeyong and Xiaojun were sitting together on the ground during recess in between lessons, hiding from the heat in the shade of a tree. Chittaphon tried to cool himself down by fanning his face with his palms but the air was just too hot. Xiaojun mostly gave up and laid down in the hopes that the ground would be cold enough. 

"He's looking at you again," smiled Chittaphon, turning to Taeyong who was sitting with his back against the tree.

Taeyong involuntarily shifted his gaze behind Chittaphon's back but then quickly averted his eyes when he caught the sight of Yuta.  
"Maybe he's looking at you," retorted Taeyong.

"Sure," said Chittaphon, not letting Taeyong bullshit him. "Are you going to do something about it?"

Taeyong wasn't meeting his eyes, opting for studying the grass instead.

"But you like him too," Chittaphon softened his voice.

"No, I don't," the boy furrowed his brows.

In response, Chittaphon rolled his eyes while Xiaojun snorted. 

"Okay, then Chittaphon-hyung can go and flirt with him," Xiaojun sat and titled his head.

Taeyong didn't respond but his face was a telltale sign itself. The other two boys laughed at his misery.

"How about I go flirt with your crush then?" Taeyong asked suddenly, addressing him.

"I don't have one," Chittaphon smiled, though he felt a tinge of anxiety squeezing his chest. _Was he so obvious?_

"Really?" Taeyong's face lit up. "Then what about Youngho?"

Chittaphon harrumphed in confusion. "What about him?"

Taeyong wanted to say something else but instead shook his head, smiling. Xiaojun, however, stood up and brushed grass off his trousers.

The two boys watched him as Xiaojun left the patch of shadow and strolled under the blazing sun to the place under the roof of the school building where another group of boys was sitting, Youngho and Yuta among them. 

Xiaojun was too far away for them to hear what they were saying but the burst of laughter from the boys was loud enough to reach them.

Chittaphon looked away, deeming the weird situation below him, but when he heard Minhyung exclaim _"Dude, he's flirting"_ it made his eyes snap back to the crowd. 

Xiaojun was sitting on Youngho's lap and laughing with the boys; his hands were encircling Youngho's neck, while he himself was being held by the waist. 

Chittaphon clenched his jaw and turned away, suddenly interested in the trees outside the school grounds. He wasn't interested in what was happening, he told himself. He just couldn't understand why Xiaojun did what he did. Chittaphon didn't have any feelings for Youngho so it was pointless to prove anything when there was nothing to prove.

Taeyong remained silent next to him, for which Chittaphon was thankful. He wasn't sure he had it in him to have a calm conversation at the moment, judging by how much his hands were shaking and his chest felt constricted. 

***

As Chittaphon lays down in his bed that is once again covered by miscellaneous pieces of clothing, he thinks about what would have happened, if he was braver back then. What if instead of Xiaojun it was him, sitting on Youngho's lap. Will they be dating by now? Will they have broken up? 

He doesn't know the answer to that question. What he does know is that he would've easily given up his position as a prince right now to be held by the other man as he falls asleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> could you tell that while writing this fic I read The Grandmaster of Demonic Cultivation and got inspired even further? haha


	6. Mountain too big

More than a week passes after Youngho last talked to Chittaphon – or seen him at all even – and he almost forgets how much it hurt to leave the prince's house to never return again. 

The city, as it seems, functions as usual, except the princes haven't received any proper guidelines on how to rule. Youngho heard that the three previous rules – Baekhyun's father, Taeyong's uncle and Taemin and his brothers' father – are planning on enlightening the boys on the matters of state as soon as the senior Byun and senior Lee return from his trip but Youngho is pretty sure that could just be rumors. 

A consistent knock on his door is so loud that it makes its way into Youngho's dream against his volition and wakes him up, way earlier than he intends to get out of bed. 

Upon opening the door to his room, he sees Jungwoo, looking frantic and disheveled. 

"What's going on?" 

"The princes…" Jungwoo answers vaguely, panting, "The princes are gone"

Youngho pushes Jungwoo aside, instantly running through his house and out into the front yard. A crowd of people is standing near Taeyong's house just two houses down the street and upon closer inspection Youngho realizes those are his friends. 

As he and Jungwoo run up to them, Youngho notices that Chittaphon, Taeyong, Yukhei, Minhyung and Taemin are all present, thankfully, but Baekhyun and Jongin are nowhere to be seen. It sends a jolt of panic up his spine, and he wishes he was sitting, or at least leaning on someone, but in absence of any of those options he remains standing, albeit swaying a little.

"Read the note again," says Guanheng, and only now Youngho notices that Taeyong is in fact holding a piece of paper. 

"All 'princes' must resign from their positions," he makes the air-quotes as they are written on paper. "The claim must be made no later than in two days. This is your second warning. If you refuse to do as we say, you will never see Baekhyun and Jongin again," as Taeyong finishes reading, the whole group falls silent for a moment.

"Second warning?" asks Youngho, still catching up.

"The attack at the palace was the first," answers Tayoung, sounding deflated. 

"We should go to the Council," says Sicheng. 

"Yes, right, because the Council will solve our every problem," Chittaphon snaps at him suddenly, to everyone's surprise. 

Youngho clears his throat and tries a different approach.

"What did the kidnappers want to achieve by giving the note to us instead of, let's say, placing it on the main square?"

"They want us to do it ourselves, maybe? Like it was our decision?" suggests Minhyung. 

"This is why we have to go to the Council," says Kibum, suddenly breaking away from comforting – and maybe only slightly teasing – his youngest brother. "Make it public so that everyone knows"

"And what are they going to tell us, exactly?" responds Chittaphon. "That they have everything under control? Didn't we hear it half a month ago when they said that the adversaries were dealt with?"

The group falls silent again, agreeing with the prince's words because, yes, that's exactly what they heard.

"What do you suggest?" steadily asks Youngho, seemingly the only person who dares to look at Chittaphon at the moment.

"I…" begins the prince, and his face changes, he looks lost and a little bit scared. He hasn't planned that far ahead and if he stammers now he'd lose his face. He doesn't dare to look away from Youngho, a silent plea to save him evident in his eyes.

"Okay," announces Youngho loudly, bringing attention to himself, and making a few of his friends jump from the sudden noise. "I say we go to the Council but we don't tell them anything. We should ask where they sent Baekhyun and Jongin, and then if they refuse we may show them the note."

This solution is supported by nodding heads and a more confident shuffling towards the main palace. Youngho quickly decides to run back into the house and put on some shoes, since he didn't have time or thought for it earlier. 

When he closes the door and turns around to jog and catch up with his friends, he sees Chittaphon, shyly swaying on the soles of his feet just outside his front door. 

"Are you coming?" asks Youngho with a teasing smile.

"Yes," Chittaphon returns a smile as well. "I just wanted to say… Thank you. And I'm sorry," the last phrase is quieter but Youngho still manages to hear it. 

"No need."

"I made you uncomfortable."

"You didn't."

"Oh."

They start walking next to each other slowly coming closer to their friends who are well on their way to the main palace. None of them says anything, and yet it doesn't feel awkward, quite on the contrary, it's soothing and comforting. Youngho feels like they have finally made a step towards each other, instead of running in the opposite directions. 

***

The Council is having a meeting when they arrive and they decide to barge in, using the moment when the Elders are all in one place. Before coming in, they argue in whispers on who to send first and decide upon Taemin – because the council loves him and usually goes easy on him – and Taeyong, who'll do most of the talking. 

As the two princes open the doors to the hall, the elders fall silent, eyeing them angrily. 

"Who dares to interrupt the Council meeting?"

"Please, excuse us," starts Taeyong. "We have an important and urgent reason. We cannot find princes Byun Baekhyun and Kim Jongin. We asked everyone we could but no one knew."

The Council members shuffle in their seats and exchange glances. Finally, one of them speaks. "Have you asked members of the clan 'E'?"

"We couldn't find any," answers Taeyong.

Upon looking at the seated elders, Youngho notices that there are only two members of the clan 'E' present, instead of five, and the total number of members in the Council is way lower than usual, which he desperately wants to comment on but decides against it.

"Honorable elders, could you please tell us the princes' whereabouts?" Taeyong must've noticed it too, since he addresses those two present elders in particular. 

"No, we can't," they answer hesitantly.

"Then we must notify Baekhyun-hyung's father," says Taemin, to everyone's surprise. "Even if he's absent, he should still know that his son might be in danger."

Youngho and the others vigorously agree, appreciating Taemin's ingenious solution. If the Council refuses, that would look highly suspicious, since notifying Baekhyun's father – the leader of the clan 'E' – should be on the top of their priority list. 

"There's no need to bother senior Byun," scolds them one of the elders. "He's far away, it would do him no good to be worried."

The young men quickly look at one another, and decide that it is time to bring out the note. 

"Could you please tell us what this is?" asks Taeyong when he places a piece of paper onto the Council's table. 

The elders study the note for a few moments. Then, one of the members decides to speak.

"You should have started with this, young men. This is important. Instead, you lied to us. Shameful," he shook his head.

"We don't know who this note is from. It could be fake," says the other elder.

"No, I think it's obvious it's from them," mutters another member and the hall suddenly falls silent at his words. 

So, the Council knows about someone, about _'them'_.

"You know who kidnapped Baekhyun and Jongin?" asks Yukhei, uncharacteristically serious, his face shifting from expressionless to disgusted.

"Of course not," quickly interrupt a few Council members at the same time and at that moment they realise they have been compromised.

"Guards!" loudly exclaims the Eldest. 

At his command two streams of armed guards come pouring in from the doors behind the Council. They surround the young men in a circle and close the main doors.

"Take away those young men and lock them away. They interfere with the matters of the state."

The guards silently obey and capture every single unfortunate soul.

"You can't do that!" exclaims Minhyung while his hands are roughly manhandled behind his back.

"It's only temporary for your own good," the Eldest makes a shushing-away gesture with his wrist and the captives are led away.

***

They weren't placed in prison, thankfully, but rather led to the guest house that's rarely occupied but it is fortunately big enough to provide space for the large crowd. Now the young men are forced to share sofas in the medium-sized living room, which hardly poses a problem since they gravitate towards each other anyway and refuse to stay apart – both regularly and during this abnormal situation.

"What are we gonna do now?" says Minhyung to no one in particular.

"Some of us need to stay here and distract the guards outside," says Jinki. "The princes definitely stay."

Minho nodded to his brother's words and continued for him. "We need a group of people who would sneak out to clan 'E's palace and figure out what's going on."

"I'll go," say Taeyong and Minhyung at the same time.

"Ya, didn't you hear what Jinki-hyung just said?" explodes Minho but he's quickly shushed by the crowd of people around him. They don't want to disturb the guards who were placed outside the house, after all.

"Jinki-hyung is right," nods Kun. "If they check up on us, the princes need to be here." _And everyone else is just a background noise_ , hangs in the air unsaid. 

"Let's pick two or three people. Which one of us is the most agile?" suggests Taeyong.

"You," say a few people at the same time. 

Taeyong stutters and glances away shyly.

"Okay, guys, focus," interrupts Youngho. "We need to pick someone who can sneak in unnoticed. Who's the shortest?"

Muffled snickers are heard in the silence of the room, quickly followed by a few names being called out.

After a small debate they finally settle to send out Xiaojun, Renjun and Donghyuck, the latter mostly as their wild card in case they are captured again and in need to talk their way out. The three guys gather together and go over the plan with Jinki, Minho and Kibum who seem to have a vague idea of a plan. Taeyong stays nearby and nods along their conversation.

Youngho taps Yuta on the shoulder to call him to go with him but the man stays by Taeyong's side, shaking his head at Youngho's proposal. 

_Huh_ , thinks Youngho. _They must've solved any problem they were having, then._ Last time he saw them together was at the theater and they were way further apart, but now, judging from the way Yuta drapes his hand around Taeyong's shoulders, they want to be left alone together.  
The trio is to escape during the night in order to take advantage of the darkness and whatever cover it may bring so now, while the sun is still up, the  
men spread around the house, finding spare nooks to sit quietly and gather their thoughts. Yuta immediately takes Taeyong by his hands and leads him away – they are not seen until much later. Kun picks a few people to bring into the kitchen to help him cook and they occupy themselves in the kitchen for a while. 

As Youngho tries to find what to do with himself, he notices Chittaphon and Sicheng sitting at the opposite ends of the long wooden ottoman.

Youngho sits between them, sighing loudly to catch their attention.

"I'm starting to think the Council are the bad guys here," he says, looking from one man to another. 

"Oh really?" asks Chittaphon with hidden sarcasm in his voice.

"Well, I started to think about that after they were massive dicks about the possibility of changing clans," he notes, vaguely but both men immediately get what he means.

"You told him?" incredulously asks Sicheng, leaning forward from behind Youngho to glare at Chittaphon. 

Chittaphon doesn't give him any answer, deciding that the opposite wall looks way more interesting.

"What do you think?" Youngho addresses Sicheng.

"What?" he furrows his brows. "What do you mean?"

"Do you think that the Council is stupid?"

Sicheng continues to stare at him with a puzzled look on his face but after a few seconds he exhales and seemingly gives up.

"I do. I think everyone should do what they want freely, without a bunch of old dudes deciding who gets what they want." 

"And what about you, Prince?" Youngho turns to Chittaphon. 

The prince shifts his eyes to his, worried expression on his face. 

"I think so, too. They shouldn't decide for us." 

Youngho smiles and curtly nods. "I think you guys have something to discuss. And I wanted to go find Minhyung so, sorry, you'll have to do the talking on your own." He stands up to leave the two.

The last thing he sees before he goes away is the thankful expression on both the guys' faces. They have a reason to talk now and someone to blame for their conflict. They almost stopped talking, risking their friendship, and Youngho felt that it was his duty as prince Chittaphon's protection to reunite him with his best friend.

***

When the evening finally comes around, a few of them silently creep to the front door to listen in on the guards while the others, Youngho among them, help Donghyuck, Renjun and Xiaojun crawl out of the window into the backyard. They pondered over the idea of distracting the guards, but then decided to keep it as a plan B in case the three guys make too much noise. Thankfully, all goes smoothly and the remaining crowd of young men gathers around in the common room again. 

No one dares to speak yet, too stunned that they have just pulled something like that off, locked in the prison-like house, unsure and terrified for their future, their state and, most of all, for their friends who went out there, probably even more scared than the rest of them. 

A couple of sudden loud bangs on the door make their blood freeze. _Were they caught?_

"Go to sleep," grumbles a guard from the outside.

The guys exhale all at once, feeling like they've lost five years off their lives in a matter of ten seconds by worrying that much. Unwillingly, they turn off the lights and shuffle around the house in semi-darkness, trying to find a place, not even to sleep – they are all too nervous for that – but to lie down and rest their eyes for a bit. 

Youngho is one of the last ones to occupy the bathroom and when he emerges, he finds all the rooms tightly packed. Suddenly, a voice calls out for him which he immediately recognises as Chittaphon's. 

"Come here, please," he says from the furthest end of one of the rooms. 

Leaning closer to the wall not to step on anyone lying on the floor, Youngho makes his way around the heavily furnished room and finds Chittaphon in between two bookcases. To his surprise, there are two mattresses on the floor, as if Chittaphon was waiting for him.

"Come here," Chittaphon pats the bedding beside him.

"Just like summer trips at school," notes Youngho, coming down to lie on the mattress. Right now their summer adventures feel like they happened in a different life, when everything was much easier and a little bit brighter, filled with laughter of ten-something year old boys. Sleeping on the floor with their friends – which meant talking the night away and falling asleep by the time the morning sun started creeping up from behind the mountains, to be then woken up a couple of hours later by their grumpy counselors who scolded them for not keeping up with their bed schedule – it's almost as if it didn't happen.

Youngho slips under the blanket only to realise that they have to share it with Chittaphon for the night. He quickly notes that not only he's opposed to it, but he's actually glad.

As soon as Youngho is more or less settles, the prince moves closer to him and immediately hides his face in his neck on one side, hooking his arm on the other. Youngho stiffens at the unexpected move and in this stillness he feels Chittaphon take in a deep and somewhat ragged breath and then exhale, slowly. He feels the prince's body slightly trembling and that's when it hits him, the realisation. 

Chittaphon is scared. 

His friends from the other clan are taken away, he is forced out of his house and into a makeshift prison of sorts, three of his own clan members are out there, doing who knows what, and he's been targeted as victim for murder – and it's scary, terrifying even. Youngho feels uneasy, too, of course, but he thinks he's doing a pretty good job with handling it. But the prince, apparently, isn't.

"Hey," whispers Youngho, daring to almost hug Chittaphon by placing both hands on his back. He doesn't squeeze in case the prince doesn't want to acknowledge his moment of weakness; and for the same reason he's hesitant to ask if Chittaphon is okay or if he should stay away from the topic completely. 

He goes for a different approach instead.

"Have you and Sicheng talked?" his voice stays quiet so others in the room wouldn't hear.

"Yeah," it's a mere exhale from Chittaphon but Youngho manages to catch it, albeit mostly by the skin of his neck turning hot.

"Good."

There is a pause in which they remain silent. Their pose doesn't change, Chittaphon is still breathing – now more evenly – into his neck. 

Youngho wraps his arms around the other man fully. 

And it is at that moment when Chittaphon breaks down. He cries quietly, his shallow inhales and exhales barely audible and it mainly results in Youngho's neck and hair getting wetter with tears. 

Youngho doesn't say anything but he rubs his palms soothingly on Chittaphon's back as he feels the prince cling to him tighter in return. 

In a couple of minutes Chittaphon calms down but he doesn't let go. He isn't asleep, that's for sure and Youngho wants to reassure him that everything is going to be alright. But simple words get stuck in his throat, being too weak and fake to say. 

As lighting a thought comes to mind. He remembers something warm and soothing, something that he always wanted to share with someone ever since he was a boy and read it in his book that instantly became his favourite. As a boy he dreamt of sharing this with his future wife, then later as a teen he realised it can also be a partner of his own gender. As the years went on he slowly started to lose hope that he'd ever get the chance to say the words out loud to anyone, words that he's only ever whispered to himself. It's something that he holds near and dear to his heart, a quote that made his heart beat faster at all the implications that came with it. 

It makes him vulnerable, he knows it. But the thought of telling it to Chittaphon somehow doesn't make him scared.

He moves one of his hands to Chittaphon's hair and strokes lightly, pondering how it feels to hold the man like that. They don't have a big intimate past together but they do know each other for their whole lives; Chittaphon has always been there, in his peripheral vision. His laughter is always heard at their gatherings and his skills at physical exercises have always made Youngho jealous. However, he thinks, it was never _just_ jealousy. 

It was also an interest. A desire to get closer. But he was scared of Chittaphon in a way because the man seemed unaffected by anyone and anything – with his eyes cold and expression of slight amusement Chittaphon dealt with both people saying how much they love him and how much they hate him. 

Youngho used to think of Chittaphon as a porcelain doll, seemingly easy to break physically but always cold. 

But Chittaphon is so warm against him now. Youngho's neck is still wet with his tears and he comes to the realization that makes his heart slow down and then start beating faster. Porcelain dolls certainly can't cry. Chittaphon is alive, just with a very hard exterior of protective walls that now seem to crack. 

He asks himself the question of how it feels again, already knowing the answer.

It feels right. 

"You know, there is a phrase I read once," he starts, voice nervously breaking in and out of whispering. He clears his throat and continues, his tone more stable. "I don't know if it's going to make much sense but… but I think it seems fitting."

Chittaphon doesn't respond but by the way he strokes Youngho's neck with his thumb Youngho can tell that he's listening.

"It goes somewhat like this," he says, making it seem like he doesn't know the quote word for word and it's just something he vaguely recollects. "Sleep peacefully and know that I am here with you now. The past is gone and cannot harm you anymore. And while the future is fast coming for you, it always flinches first and settles in as the gentle present. This now… We can cope with that. We can do this together, you and I. Drowsily but comfortably"

He's a little out of breath, both because of anxiety and from long sentences that he knows by heart. 

Chittaphon is quiet, frozen even. Youngho starts to worry that he might have overshared the intimacy and he wants to open his mouth and start backtracking, saying that it's not a big deal when he hears Chittaphon whisper.

"It's beautiful."

"It is," admits Youngho and exhales with relief. At least Chittaphon didn't say it was stupid because it would've been soul-crushing to him.

He is content with the reaction as it is but then he feels Chittaphon lift his head and not even a second afterwards a small kiss is placed to the lower part of Youngho's cheek where Chittaphon could reach him. 

"Thank you, Johnny"

A nickname catches Youngho off guard because he genuinely thought he'd never hear it since they parted ways right after that conversation. But here it is, whispered in the dark by Chittaphon's harmonious tone that's apparent even at such low volume. 

The moment to respond goes away so Youngho simply shifts to get more comfortable on the bedding and presses Chittaphon closer to himself as he sighs. 

Before he knows it, he falls asleep.

***

Youngho is bending down to his knees from laughter, wheezing from the joke Jaehyun has made and feels a bead of sweat run down his spine. It's way too hot to exist, even in the shadow under the roof. 

In his periphery he notices a figure approaching them and after squinting his eyes to adjust to the bright light he recognizes him as Xiaojun. The way he stands, the heat, the hot wind – it all seems familiar. 

"I am trying to win a bet. Will you help me?" Xiaojun asks and Youngho finds himself responding with the same question he did before.

"What are we going to get from it?"

"I'll smuggle some home-brewed makgeolli that my grandfather makes."

"Ohhh," exclaim a few guys, clearly familiar with the family recipe.

"Okay. What do we need to do?"

"I need to sit on your lap," points Xiaojun.

Youngho laughs and gestures to himself in invitation. "You know, you could've just asked, I'd let you sit on my lap any day," teases Youngho as he circles his hands around Xiaojun. 

"Dude, he's flirting," loudly exclaims Minhyung, and Youngho, just as he did at the time, looks over to where he saw Chittaphon sitting before. Some part wanted for Chittaphon to notice them, to notice him holding another person in his hands because… Youngho wasn't sure why, at least when it happened, but now, in this dream that lets him relive that moment he knows he wanted Chittaphon to be jealous. He was loud on purpose and he agreed to Xiaojun's proposition on purpose. But Chittaphon wasn't looking at him.

In a weird change of scene that he mostly feels and not sees he's in the same place with the same people around except he's more content and when he looks at the person sitting on top of him he realises that no, not everything is the same. 

Here, right in his hands, sits Chittaphon himself. He's discussing something with Yangyang but the meaning of the words doesn't reach Youngho – whether because this part of the dream hasn't formed itself in his brain or because he's still catching up with the plot. 

Chittaphon is right here. He's smiling, so bright and open that Youngho wants to hide him away so that no one sees his honest smile and ruins it. Chittaphon notices him staring and fixes his eyes on him.

"What?" his smile is unwavering.

"Nothing," Youngho smiles in return. He knows, _realizes_ , that this is just a dream. But. 

But he wants to indulge himself in this scenario just a little bit longer.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The phrase that Youngho is quoting is from Welcome to Night Vale podcast and it's so so beautiful! I really wanted to incorporate it in my work and I think this is the best place for it.


	7. Finale, Part 1: Together

It's aggressive whispering from the hallway that wakes Youngho up in the middle of the night. He pries his eyes open, fighting with himself to not go back to sleep and manages to concentrate enough to have a glimpse out of the window from his position on the floor. Judging from the color of the sky it's about an hour before the sunrise.

Something big must've happened that the voices nearby start to break into regular volume now and again only to be shushed by someone else.

 _The guys must have returned_ , is his first thought.

Youngho wants to stand up and go see and listen for himself but then he discovers that it's harder to stand up than he accounted for. His hazy mind catches up with his position and he realises there's a hand that holds him across the stomach and a warm weight of someone's – Chittaphon's – head on his shoulder. 

He thanks the darkness in the room and the furniture that's obstructing from anyone else seeing them like this but he quickly realises that it doesn't matter if anyone catches them. The only person who he's scared of seeing them, realising what they are, is himself. And he's staring right at the sleeping man almost on top of him.

Youngho untangles himself from Chittaphon as slowly as he can and as soon as he's free he bolts to the door to get into action. 

He's not running away. He's not.

In the dim light of the only lit lamp casting light in the common room Youngho sees a few people bundled up together. Among them in the dim lighting he notices all three men who went out into the small expedition and smiles with relief.

"You're back," he whispers as he approaches them.

Donghyuck smiles back at him and even though he looks tired, he seems genuinely happy which means that their enterprise was successful. 

"Are you hungry?" asks them Taeyong whose hands are being held by – Youngho mentally untangles the knot of two pairs of hands and follows up on which belong to whom – Yuta. It doesn't surprise him, yet he wants to comment on it but withholds just in case this is a rare occurrence and won't happen in the future because of his remark. 

"Yes, but I want to sleep more," mentions Renjun. He's leaning onto Donghyuck, threatening to fall asleep any second. 

"Go," shushes him Youngho. "Xiaojun, help him."

It's not that he doesn't want to hear what happened during the night but Donghyuck looks awake enough to tell them all they need to know and, to be completely honest, Youngho doesn't want to speak with Xiaojun. He has nothing against him, can't come up with any reason for feeling this way and yet… Yet.

"I'll go wake hyungs," says Taeyong and stands up to head to where clan "S" members are spending the night; Yuta follows him closely.

Youngho ends up alone with Donghyuck who sighs and leans back against the wall.

"Rough night?" Youngho teases, trying to lighten the mood.

"You can say that, yeah," he grins but there's an edge of something else in his voice and not just exhaustion. Youngho wants to believe it's not residue fear but it sounds awfully familiar.

"Anyone seen you?"

"No," exhales Donghyuck and Youngho understands what he has no energy to say but shows it with his tired breath. They weren't caught but they were close to that and they put an awfully lot of effort to stay unnoticed. 

Youngho wants to say that he is thankful for everything they did. He wants to say that they were scared for them and he has no idea how terrifying it was being out there, just the three of them, against the state and the Council and whatever it is that they faced. Ha wants to say that he is glad to see them unharmed and if he could, he would have hugged Donghyuk tight, as hard as his muscles allow him. 

Instead, he nods and says "Good."

Taeyong and Yuta return with Jinki, Minho and Kibum. Older men look awake enough to assume that they weren't sleeping, though Kibum is rubbing his eyes with a hint of annoyance so probably he rested his eyes for a bit after all.

"Taemin-hyung is asleep, we didn't want to wake him," says Taeyong but Youngho knows clan "S" enough to assume that Minho and Kibum must have threatened him with physical violence if he even dared to breath in the direction of their sleeping younger brother.

"Come on, spill," says Kibum. 

"We went to the palace first, there was nowhere around, except for guards. Then we went to the house where the elders live and… there was no one, too," he pauses for a while, while the crowd of listeners hummed in surprise. "Renjun suggested going to the clan "E" main residence, and that's where we headed next. The residence… well, it was occupied, heavily so."

He falls quiet, chewing on his lips and obviously trying to sort through the memories. 

"The elders were there, and… There were other people whom I didn't recognise. They were all in grey clothes, and there were white cross-marks on their chests...like a circle with a cross inside... and they were at the head of the table. It was so weird, I only saw Baekhyun's father sitting there, but… it wasn't him."

The silence stretches out until Jinki clears his throat, getting everyone's attention.

"I know who they are, unfortunately. Of course, I could be wrong, but… Minho, what do you think?"

"I think you're right," Minho nods, gravely. 

Jinki nods in response and takes a deep breath. "Those were the seniors of the clan 'E'. They ruled before Byun senior alongside with our father and Taeyong's uncle created a ruling that wasn't as… totalitarian, to say nicely. You were probably too little to remember, even I only have vague recollections of those events, but the description matches. I have no doubt they were the ones who kidnapped Baekhyun and Jongin."

"Do you think that they want to get the state back?" frowns Minho. "It's stupid and reckless."

Jinki hums and smiles sadly in agreement. "They were never particularly smart," he takes a second to think about something and then adds. "This is why they must have obtained the Council's help. At least those they could bribe."

"And what happened to the others? When we went to the palace yesterday some of them were missing," says Taeyong.

"We can only hope they are in a similar situation to us," responds Jinki, and the unsaid _'Hopefully they are not dead'_ hangs in the air, making everyone slightly wince from the bitter taste the implication leaves in their mouth.

"Then what do we do?" asks Donghyuck. His voice is different now, small and almost lost. His eyes reflect the same emotion, as Youngho notices. He lowers his eyes not to see it.

Donghyuck is younger than him, in fact, he's the youngest in the whole house, and he shouldn't even be here and think about political conflicts or matters of life and death. Even Jeno, who's older than him, isn't present, being under home arrest alongside his parents, and Donghyuck should've been home, too. Youngho doesn't even remember when Donghyuck snuck up to their crowd, but that's just how he is – present every time there's action. Only now, the action will probably leave some scars – and Youngho doesn't want to think whether mental or physical injuries are better in this situation.

"We need to have the upper hand, somehow," says Yuta. "There's a lot of us here, we need to use it to our advantage. Maybe we should kidnap one of the Council members and speak to him one on one," he raises his eyebrows, seeking support.

Weirdly enough, the idea to steal someone from the Council doesn't seem even half crazy, given everything they're going through.

"Yeah," nods Taeyong, picking up this thought. "Think what they expect from us. Those clan members sent us a message to resign and the Council locked us up. We will tell them that we want to speak to them, _all of them_ , meanwhile catching one or two Council members to have leverage."

"And do what, exactly?" asks Kibum with a clear distrust in his voice. "So, you kidnap them, and the Council says _'We don't care, kill them'_ , then what?"

"We'll come up with something," says Taeyong, trying to master hope that even he's not sure he has and his big brown eyes appear even bigger and brighter under his raised eyebrows.

"Good idea," suddenly says Jinki. "It's only a part of the plan but we will use that to stall for time."

"Time for what?" asks Minho.

"I'll tell you when I know for sure," responds Jinki with a smile. 

It's not a confident smile but it's a start. 

***

They decide upon the Council members they are going to capture and in the end split into two groups – one consisting of Taeil, Youngho and Yuta and the other consisting of Minho and Kibum. Donghyuck quickly describes the best route to escape the house by through the back door and after waking Taeil and bringing him up to speed with everything going on they depart shortly before the bright morning sunlight spills onto the streets. 

As they make their way in between houses, they listen to every whisper of the wind and jump every time they hear any noise nearby. At one of the bigger streets they almost have a run-in with the guards but Yuta quickly grabs Youngho and Taeil by the hands and shoves them into the adjacent street. A few more turns and they arrive at the small hut-like house of the Council member they're looking for. 

They slip into the backyard to find the back door poorly closed against the door frame. Yuta easily manages to squeeze his fingers into the opening and push up the wooden latch – the only defence the house has. One squeaky door opening later and they make it inside.

Loud snoring from the bedroom relieves their worries of being caught, allowing them to take a second to breathe evenly. As they've discussed earlier since Youngho is the strongest amongst them, he's picked as the one sneaking into the room. Yuta and Taeil are just a few steps behind him as a moral, and possibly physical – if things go wrong – support. 

He looks over the sleeping man. Though his features are relaxed, Youngho still remembers him – a man who always boasts about the sanctity of marriage, while also almost publically cheating on every wife he's wed. Pulling this man into a choke-hold to knock him unconscious doesn't stir any guilt in Youngho though he rather wishes that he never has to touch him again. 

Taeil and Yuta help him carry the body out of the house and they quickly realize that walking with an unconscious Council member in their hands is slightly suspicious. 

Youngho signs and motions for the guys to help him hoist the man onto his back. It's not looking less sketchy but at least they can make their way back to the house faster. They meet with Minho and Kibum carrying another body in the bushes in the backyard, all of them thankfully unnoticed. 

By the time they come back, Jinki has already left.

***

Yuta excuses himself from the interrogation and finds Taeyong roaming around the kitchen alone. The majority of others flock towards the doorframes of the two rooms in the different parts of the house where Youngho, Doyoung, Minho and Kibum get under the Council member's skin. The princes are pushed away in case the men provoke them into coming in, and they have nothing better to do rather than occupy themselves with something, _anything_ , really.

"Did you find anything tasty?" Yuta approaches Taeyong and stands beside him.

"Well, there is an apple," Taeyong shrugs. The fruit has already been bitten into but Taeyong still offers it to Yuta who smiles and closes his teeth around a small piece. 

"Thank you," Yuta says after swallowing. 

Taeyong smiles back at him, making such an adorable face that Yuta can't help himself but lean closer, planting a kiss onto the man's cheek. He still can't really believe that this is something he's allowed to do. 

Yuta wants to kiss him fully but he's apprehensive of anyone coming in on them so he refrains, only for Taeyong to catch his gaze on his lips. Usually it's hard to tell which one of them is braver but at that moment it's Taeyong who pecks him on the lips first. Yuta absentmindedly licks his lips, tasting the apple all over again.

"Useless," drops Kibum as he emerges from the room closest to the kitchen after another twenty minutes go by. 

Yuta and Taeyong follow him with their eyes, opting for staying silent. Kibum seems annoyed but Minho who storms out after his brother is outright furious. "I never wanted to punch a Council member so hard in my life."

Yuta exchanges a quick glance with Taeyong and sees him shaking his head to signal for them not to speak. 

Doyoung, however, brings them more positive news. 

"The Council members have a meeting with those... " he refrains from swearing and instead skips naming them entirely, "in the palace today. We also know that the Council elders who didn't help them are alive but he refused to name the place where they hold them."

A collective relieved sigh is heard among the crowd. 

"A meeting, then," nods Taeyong. "This is our chance."

***

Youngho hovers near the exit watching the five princes get ready. It's not so much an outer preparation since they wear the same clothes they did yesterday but more so mental, getting their thoughts together for what's to come.

Just about an hour ago they notified the guards standing outside that they wanted to make an important announcement and they can only do that at the palace. The response from the elders was almost immediate – the invitation to visit and the freedom to go out were granted with no issues at all.

Now Taeyong – an unofficial leader of their small group in the absence of Baekhyun – repeats the words they came up with, muttering silently to himself. Yuta stands nearby and squeezes his wrists from time to time, trying to be not so obvious, however, when he raises his eyes he catches Youngho looking at them and retreats his hands back. Youngho smiles, in understanding and reassurance and looks away to give the two as much privacy as he can, though it's not a lot. 

His gaze, as usual, lands on Chittaphon. The prince is standing not that far away but Youngho feels apprehensive to approach him. _What are they now?_ Friends? He hopes so. But he also finds himself wishing for more, though he doesn't know how to phrase it even in his own head.

"Hyung?" a voice – so gentle – brings him back to reality.

He snaps his eyes up and meets Chittaphon's.

"Yes?"

"Will you watch my back?"

 _Always._

"That's the plan," he says instead. "We're coming right behind you, your highness."

Chittaphon scoffs at the title and playfully slaps Youngho on the shoulder. It's more of a tap, really, but Youngho feels that he could fall, if Chittaphon wants him to. 

"Don't call me that," Chittaphon frowns, yet there's a smile on his face. An open smile, a kind smile, Youngho notices. 

"Then what should I call you?"

"Ten," the corners of his lips go higher. "And you are Johnny. And because no one else calls you that, you are my Johnny."

Youngho bursts into laughter, because how could someone just say stuff like that? But also, maybe, just maybe, there's a puddle of warmth spreading somewhere in his ribcage and he needs to express it, otherwise it consumes him whole.

"Alright, guys, let's go," Taeyong announces. For the first few seconds his voice sounds like it's coming from a different plane of existence and only now Youngho notices the bubble Chittaphon and him has created. 

Youngho squeezes Chittaphon's shoulder briefly and watches the princes step out of the house. He sighs and turns to help Taeil and Yuta carry the – once again – unconscious Council member. 

***

Afternoon sun is blinding and warm. On one hand, Youngho wants to get into the cool palace, but on the other, he'd rather be anywhere else.

The five princes go in the first line together almost shoulder to shoulder and everyone else follows them closely. The bodies of the members are slightly covered by the crowd but Youngho still catches the odd looks from other citizens who happen to be on the street. A few inquiring gazes are seen in the windows but no one stops them or asks them what they're doing. After all, the Council haven't released any statements, preferring to deal with the matters quietly, so the majority of the population isn't even aware of what the princes are going through.

This is why they're openly going down the street. So that everyone knows. 

***

They are met with the guards standing in front of the palace. 

"Only princes go. The rest of you stays," the guard says as they approach the main entrance.

"No," responds Taeyong. "We all go"

"Or what?" snaps the guard.

"Or the Council will know that you refuse to let their members in," says Yukhei and points at the bodies swinging in between the hands of young men.

The guards whisper amongst themselves and take a few steps in the opposite directions. The opening between them is so small that the guys would have to enter one by one. A perfect opportunity to get arrested.

"No, that won't do," says Chittaphon with an ice-cold voice. "Go away"

With a few more seconds of shuffling the armed men begrudgingly gather on the sides of the entrance, leaving quite a big space for the unobstructed entrance.

In the foyer of the palace loud voices coming from the main hall are amplified. Those are voices of people of the Council, some are more recognisable than the others, but amongst them there are strange, angry and foreign voices. As Taeyong opens the doors to the main hall, Youngho catches the sight of the people in grey robes, just like Donghyuck described them. The intruders – he can only think of them that way – are sitting by the tables, their tables, drinking and laughing. 

The few that hold the cups lower them onto the table when they see the doors opening.

"What a nice surprise, the young princes decided to come themselves." says the ruler of the Council, rising from his seat. "Guards!"

"I don't think they'll come. They don't want to bother the honorary members of the Council," says Taeyong and motions for Youngho and the others bring the bodies forward.

"What is the meaning of this?" a few elders and the grey-dressed people rise as well.

"Please remain seated," says Kibum, suddenly pointing a dagger at the unconscious man's neck. 

_A dagger_ , Youngho thinks. _Where the hell did he take a dagger from?_ The last thing the guards did before they locked them in the house was search every single one of them and confiscate any weapons or weapon-like objects they had. Some of the guys lost their pocket knives that were two or three times smaller than the piece of metal Kibum was holding. 

"No need to be so hasty," the eldest holds up his hands and slowly takes a seat back by the table. 

"We want you to return the princes Byun Baekhyun and Kim Jongin," says Taeyong.

"We don't have them," responds one of the intruders with barely hidden annoyance. "And even if we did, we wouldn't give them to you. Your ruling is fake and you are–."

His speech is cut off by the sudden sound of hooves on the stone floor of the palace. 

Youngho turns back just in time to see two stallions gallop into the main hall. In one saddle he recognises Jinki, and in the other he sees two people at the same time, both of whom are promptly jumping down onto the floor.

"I should've killed you the last time I saw you," a thunder-like voice from Byun senior reflects from the high ceilings of the room. The man unsheathes his sword and storms right to the intruder who was speaking just a few seconds ago.

With one swift motion of his hand the head comes flying down. The body falls a moment after. 

The man keeps his sword up and looks around.

"Bring me my son or you will be next."


End file.
